


Escape The Room Or The People

by Petersolacenovak



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Almost Saw AU, Blood and Violence, But not that much gore and almost everyone lives, Ed and Os are constantly bickering, F/F, F/M, Isabella is a clone, M/M, Psychological Torture, Public Humiliation, Revenge, Riddles against rhymes, Set in the almost middle of season 4, transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 06:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17844596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petersolacenovak/pseuds/Petersolacenovak
Summary: No one spoke for a moment.Until, “So where are we, brainiac?”Ed’s face remained emotionless as he answered, “Not Gotham.”A sudden crackle filled the room and they all jumped when a voice croned, “Very good, Mr. Nygma. Well done.” from what seemed to be the ceiling. That's when they all noticed the small camera and microphone just above their heads.





	1. Wake the Waking and The Dying

**Author's Note:**

> Eh

Jim woke up to screaming. It sounded as if a little girl was being hurt, only a few feet away. He quickly jumped up from his bed and into a fighting stance-

Wait.

He hadn't been in his bed. He had been sleeping on the floor? He glanced at the floor and found his eyesight to be poor and shaky, only being able to recognize the floor as very dirty cement.

The walls were too, showing Jim he was in a basement. He whirled around, vision clearing as he went, and found he was in a room full of people. Most on the floor.

“Did I scare you?” A chilling voice snickered, making James very relieved the words were not aimed at him and at someone else, instead.

He recognized the voice to belong to Jerome Valeska, and the two figures next to him to be Selina Kyle and billionaire boy; Bruce Wayne. The kid who always gets kidnapped. The kid who was a hostage on his birthday and on Christmas. He really had the worst of luck.

The only answer Jerome got was a shove to the gut from Bruce as he scurried up from his knees and onto his feet. He breathed forcefully, eyes glaring daggers at the red headed villain, Selina following suit.

“Bruce?” Jim called hoarsely, gaining the attention of the three teenagers. They blinked at him, seemingly almost surprised he was talking to them. Had they not seen him when he was asleep? Wait-why were they all-what the-?

“GET OFF OF ME!” Penguin’s loud and shrill voice sounded from the back corner. Jim turned with both fists raised again, ready for an attacker. He lowered them when he saw Oswald and the Riddler tangled up.

“Me? You're the one whos crushing my arm!” Riddler responded to Oswald, pushing him away and lifting his arm to his chest in a hurt manner.

“You got drool in my hair, asshole.” Oswald scowled, gesturing to his usually perfect updo, strands a bit damp, “Do you have any idea how long it takes to get my hair the way it looks, every morning?”

“Oh my god, you are ridiculous!” Ed snapped, sitting up straight to look Oswald right in the eye. They were both bristling with rage, Oswald shaking and Ed snarling.

“Says the man with the alter ego, ‘The Riddler’!” Oswald screeched.

“Your nickname is after a flightless bird, you brobdingnagian idiot!” Ed shot back, his skin turning a ghastly shade of red in the dim room.

“Shut the fuck up, you sad excuse of a man,” Oswald said, his voice becoming more high pitched as his anger grew.He slowly began to stand, Ed rising with him.

“My god! Do you know how much better my life would be if you're mother had just fucking swallowed?” Oswald snapped as soon as he was sturdy on his feet.

Ed’s eyes went wide with a gasp, “How dare you-”

“Can you both-like-shut it?”

Jim’s eyes darted over to Selina, which reminded him he wasn't watching a reality tv show-He was just witnessing a fight of the two most irritating people he'd ever had the displeasure of meeting.

And apparently Oswald and Ed didn't know they weren't alone because they nearly yelled at the sight of Jim and the three young ones, blushed becoming prominent.

“Wh-what the-?” Ed trailed off, looking at the four of them and then Oswald, like he had just woken up from a nightmare (Which he very likely could have).

Oswald seemed to be in shock-probably very confused in how and why they were in a cement block of a room with each other.

But Jim was grateful for that.

Oswald talking would probably give him a bigger headache then he already had.

“Where are we?”

Jim’s eyes went to Bruce and his heart beat a little quicker at the sight of the boy.

When he had glanced at him earlier he had looked fine, but now Jim could actually focus in and notice the gash on the side of his head.

He was also quite pale-but Jim could check that off as just being nervous because of the ginger haired demon standing just a few feet away from them all.

“I don't know.” He felt himself saying.

Huh.

His throat hasn't burned earlier.

Why did it now?

“Beats me.” Cat shrugged, her eyes zooming around the room faster then Jim could keep track of.

“Probably a secret room in Arkham,” Jerome said with a sickening giggle, “They're gonna do tests on their patients-only this time,” He stopped to give a dramatic cackle, “You're all patients as well!”

He went into a round of laughs, eyes going wet and his face pinkening with glee.

Or maybe the lack of oxygen flowing through his lungs.

Was it bad for Jim to wish a boy half his age dead?

Wait-what had Jerome said? They were back at Arkham?

“No.” Ed’s lack of emotion voice drawled into the room. He had a neutral face-although a smirk may have possibly been coming through-and his fingers twitched by his own waist.

Jerome’s laughter ceased, giving Ed a confused look, to which Ed responded, “We are not at Arkham.”

“Well thank fuck for that.” Selina sighed, leaning against one of the walls lazily-despite the serious and terrifying situation.

“How would you know?” Jerome ended up snapping at the riddler, still all the way across the room.

“Oh please no.” Jim heard Oswald moan before Ed went into a full in rant that made Jim groan as much as Penguin.

“Well, for starters there's an air duct up there-too small for anyone to fit into and too high for anyone to get to I must add before anyone stupidly suggests that as a possible escape plan-anyways, it's flowing in a beach sort of scent, so we must be next to a body of water that contains salt. The first thought that comes to mind is the harbor-the docks could be a very plausible option-but we are in a room made of cement and brick with little insulation. So it can't be a warehouse-those are too big first off, and the buildings are made more sturdy than this. Not only that, but these walls don't seem to be sound proof, so we'd definitely be able to hear the sounds of the water, the boats, and the hundreds of workers. So that raises the question; Where are we? We’re definitely near a body of saltwater. We're definitely somewhere above ground. And we’re absolutely in a remote location if these walls are not soundproof.”

No one spoke for a moment.

Until Selina asked, “So where are we, brainiac?”

Ed’s face remained emotionless as he answered, “Not Gotham.”

A sudden crackle filled the room and they all jumped when a voice croned, “Very good, Mr. Nygma. Well done.” from what seemed to be the ceiling. That's when they all noticed the small camera and microphone just above their heads.

“Who's there?” Oswald was suddenly yelling, “I demand you tell me who you are and let me out of this room this instant!”

“Tut tut, Oswald,” The voice drawled, “You always were such an impatient man.”

The voice laughed loudly and Jim grimaced at the pain it caused his ears. It was unnaturally high and a little too excited and happy.

“Who is this?” Oswald yelled, “I swear on my life I will rip you apart if you don't-”

“Isabella?”

Jim looked over at Ed in confusion, completely out of the loop and not knowing what was happening or who this person was.

Apparently Oswald knew, as he was sucking in gasps of breath and looking at Ed like he was going to choke him. And not in the way that Oswald typically enjoyed.

“Oh, Ed,” The too sweet voice who was apparently someone named ‘Isabella’ crooned, “It's Just been too long, huh? Six months and you haven't been able to murder someone who looks like Kringle. Must be torture."

"Oh dear." Ed muttered.


	2. Where is the Lovely Leslie Thompkins?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more development in what exactly is happening to everyone-and where the others are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should mention how much I love Lee. 
> 
> Like, the last episode hit me like a train. Spoiler-when Lee and Jim kissed, I screamed-cause even though I'm total Nygmobblepot trash, Lee and Jim are the sweetest and most wholesome couple ever.

Jim didn't necessarily consider himself to be a helpful person to others. Yes, he tried to do good whenever he could-but he also made selfish sort of decisions. He usually told himself ‘it's for the greater good’ and stuck with that phrase for as long as he possible-before things got too heavy and the guilt became a burden, draped across his shoulders.

He had done so many deals with Oswald Cobblepot and traded so many favors with Barbara Kean, he was practically at the sirens or the iceberg lounge everyday of his life.

He constantly asked for help when it was wrong to do so, and ended up destroying so many innocent people’s lives because of his own self righteousness and arrogance.

So, yeah. He did not consider himself to be a very good or helpful person.

He considered his actions to most of the time end up well, but he almost never had complete confidence in his own personal kindness.

And when Isabella began to whisper words, tone sweet and so candy covered, Jim would've worried about getting a cavity if not for his entire brain being full of concern and panic for the situation the six were all stuck in, he began to fear for the other’s safety.

“Now, my friends and I have been keeping tabs on you all for quite some time,” She chuckled and Jim had to hum to try and block out the hissing in her voice, “I will admit, we had a minor setback a few months ago, right after I ‘died’,” Her voice was drenched in sarcasm on that word and Jim frowned in confusion when she went on without explaining whatever the fuck that was about,

“But we're all here today,” She continued, “This time we’re going to make sure you all belong in the world. To make sure you're strong enough to continue on in Gotham and succeed in your destiny.”

“How will you figure that out?” Jerome was quick to ask, sinister snickers threatening to spill out.

Isabella’s own grin was audible in her voice, almost sounding like she had giggles stuck in her throat as she replied, “We’re going to put you all through some very simple and easy tests. You'll all be out of here in a jiffy.” Her tone remained light, however, Jim wasn't so sure if she was talking about them all leaving on their own two feet-or in body bags.

“What kinds of tests would these be,” Bruce asked and Jim nodded along, wanting to to know what this crazy woman had in store for them.

“Oh you know,” Isabella’s voice carried through the room, “All sorts of things really. We’ll see how honest you are, how patient...how much you’re willing to sacrifice to get out of here-or for each other.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Oswald was suddenly yelling for what felt like the hundredth time that day to Jim, “What exactly are we going to have to sacrifice to leave? What if we don't want to play your asinine game?”

Jim’s brow grew moist with perspiration, nerves taking over and silently wishing for this ‘Isabella’ woman to not kill them for Oswald’s large mouth,

“Yeah, what if we just sit here and do nothing?” Selina asked, looking down at the dirty floor like it was a cozy bed from Wayne manor.

“I would love to just take a little snooze.” Jerome echoed, sitting down with a ‘hmph’.

“Ed?” Isabella cooed over the mic, “Wanna explain to them why they can't do that?”

Jim’s head snapped over to Ed, kinda forgetting he was even there at all and being completely surprised at the look of perplexion on his face.

“Look at the level of the floor compared to the walls.” He commanded and Jim felt himself looking down without a moment of hesitation.

“What about it?” Jim asked, feeling forty percent dumber when Ed stared at him like he was a babbling Buffoon.

“It's a very nice...floor,” Jerome offered, patting it like an animal. Or in his case, probably the corpses of his victims after he feels weird and sentimental. In other words, he pegged the floor gently, with a smile on his, always curved upwards, lips.

“It looks like the floor of a torture dungeon.” Oswald snarled, fists curling as he looked to Ed to continue on.

And why exactly was Oswald still standing closer to Ed than any of them? Jim didn't know.

Yes, Oswald probably didn't know Bruce or Selina that well, knew Jerome was a psychopath, and Jim to be extremely self righteous.

But Ed was his worst nemesis.

Or that's what they both claimed.

“Listen,” Ed’s eyes squinted at the ground as he talked,”I have an assumption that we’re all standing on a ticking time bomb and that we've activated the pressure plate.”

“Well that's a very large assumption.” Bruce eyed the floor, trying to search for what exactly Ed had seen to make him believe they were all on top of bomb, lips frowning.

“Mhmm,” Ed nodded, waiting a moment and not really paying attention to Bruce, before letting the words wash over him and explaining, “Just look at how much higher that part of the room is then this half.”

He gestured to the small square of area that Selina stood on, and Jim ‘oh’ed when he saw the two or three inch difference between it and the parts that they all stood/sat at.

“And then there's the scuff marks on the walls.” Ed said, “There's little scuff marks just along the edge of the walls, right above where our part of the floor sits. It's not above street trash girl’s panel-”

“Still with the nickname.” Selina muttered.

“So it can't just be that the floor was built after this section,” Ed went on, ignoring the interruption with only a hint of a jaw twitch.

“Their must be a sort of pressure plate that moved us lower, indicating that it activated something-and that something, is most likely a bomb, judging from all of our past experiences with the court. So,” Ed paused, looking for someone to interject or add on-only for him to be met with silence. (In Jim’s defense, he didn't really know how he could follow up without looking like a brain dead parrot, repeating everything that'd already been said).

“Yeah…” Riddler finished lamely.

“Thank you, Eddie,” The starchy voice of their captor fluttering through the room as she moved back into her place of squawking out gibberish.

“Now,” She said, “I hope you all agree to play these games. I mean, I'd really hate to not tor-er-uh...I would really hate to not let you guys even get a chance, because of your own laziness,” She gave a hack of a laugh, “How unfortunate that would be! For you all to die in the first round because you don't wanna get up! The other groups sprung immediately to action when they woke. They tried-”

“Other groups?” Jim bit out, retaining his ability to speak without an off tightness in his chest. The tightness disappearing didn't offer a very long celebration after the ‘other groups’ were mentioned. Now Jim felt worry eating away at his heart.

“Oh yes,” Isabella audibly grinned, “There's three groups, including you guys. Every group has six people. All of which are coded with their numerals-quite boring-but easy to remember. Oh! And group three is my absolute favorite! They only woke up about two hours before you all- but they managed to finish the test in twenty minutes while not bickering at all.” She stopped before adding on, “Well, mostly not bickering. There was some squabbles between your exes, Jim, but that's about it.”

Jim’s blood went cold, swooping around his veins like a metro car in a blizzard.

“What?” He croaked out, throat going back to its earlier scratchy feel.

“You heard me,” Isabella said, diving into a round of laughter, the sounds of skin hitting skin as she clapped her hands.

“Mrs. Kean and Dr. Thompkins make such a humorous pair, James,” She said once her laughter died down. “I can see why you like them...so much.” Her tone becoming something Jim felt uncomfortable to hear.

And he would have focused on her tone-if that's what bothered him so much-but his heart, in that moment, was thumping up and down-feeling almost red hot.

“What have you done with them?” Jim spat, eyes looking up to the camera, hoping it would intimidate the woman.

No such luck, seeing as she was cackling again.

“WHERE IS SHE?” He yelled, feeling more fear than anger. Was Lee okay? Was she scared? Oh god, she was probably so scared. All alone with only Barbara for company? Was she even alive? Barbara had tried to kill her before…

Why was he feeling so lightheaded?

Oh god, Lee must be so-

“Jim!” Oswald’s voice shrieked in his ear, pulling him back to his senses, his alertness coming back.

The slap from Selina wasn't really necessary.

“Jesus, you're fine, Gordon.” The girl shook her head at him, giving him the irritated (But secretly concerned) eyes he had seen from her almost a thousand times.

She, Oswald, and Bruce crowded in front of him, staring at him.

Should he thank them for snapping him out of it or-

“What the fuck did you do with her?” Ed was growling at the ceiling when Jim spared him and Jerome a look.

Hmm. Jim kept forgetting Ed and Lee were like Rachel and Monica...friends.

“Leslie is trapped in a cage right now, actually.” Isabella said, “I'm watching her right now-over the cameras set up in there-and she’s quite selfless, it seems. So kind to keep watch, guarding over those five while they sleep. And-oh! Oswald! Would you like to know who's talking with her right now? Someone just woke up!”

“Who?” Jim yelled, eyes begging for an answer.

“I asked Oswald, Mr. Gordon.” Isabella sang, dragging out the ‘O’ in Oswald.

Jim huffed, breathing in shallowly and jerking his head over in Penguin’s direction, waiting for the man to answer Isabella.

“Er-” Oswald looked at Jim uncertanly, as if trying to tell him, ‘you might not like the answer but please don't break down in front of me or the others’.

“Who’s there?” Oswald asked hesitantly after Jim made no action to voice his thoughts.

Isabella seemed go happy as she replied, “Your buddy, Zsasz. Well, him and your little...friend.”

“Little friend?” Ed frowned.

“Who are you talking about, you insane wench?” Oswald asked.

There was a long moment of quiet, until a single word answer,

“Martin.”

….

And that's when Oswald lost it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one hates me but... someone is gonna die in the next chapter. 
> 
> Whoopsie.


	3. Coffee spills and Very Painful Shoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got really sick last week and wasn't a able to post cause I felt felt like death (sorry to my lil sis cause I have her the flue oops) but here's the new chapter. I got kinda lazy at the end but you know, yeet

_It had been a peaceful evening on Saturday. The sun had been shining through the window of his office, the building had been quiet and he had a cup of coffee fresh from the machine, thanks to Harper-who had set the cup down on his desk while he was asleep, knowing he'd be grumpy in the morning without his daily cup of Joe._

_She was really turning out to be a good friend, as well as a great cop._

_Of course, he was still a bit disgruntled when he awoke, the indent of computer keys pressed into the skin of his cheek, as he'd fallen asleep on the keypad._

_His hands slid up to his face and he wiped at his eyes, trying to run away the kind of grimy feeling he had built up over night._

_“Harper!” He called, reaching over for his coffee and taking a sip. He scowled at the drink. She always gave him too much sugar and cream for it to be good._

_Good thing he cared more about the boost it gave, than the flavor._

_“Yes, cap?” She asked, striding in with a navy blue pantsuit that oddly reminded him of Lee._

_Man, he should call Lee._

_What was she up to?_

_She was still hanging out with Ed or something, running the narrows like a queen with her jester._

_Yeah, Jim could see who was in charge and-_

_Harper was looking at him._

_“Er-can you get me those richterson files? And put a bolo out for him? I was gonna do it last night…” He trailed off, coffee sloshing as he rolled his hand with a shrug._

_“But you fell asleep,” Harper finished with a chuckle, “I get it, boss. Working till four am seems tough.”_

_Jim’s lips carved into one of his signature awkward smirks as she left, letting him take another too sugary sip of coffee._

_He let his chair swivel around so he could look out out the window, positioned behind his desk. The trails of smog graced the sky, and there was a hazy reflection of him that stared back._

_When had he ever felt so at ease in this office?_

The odd contrast of having Oswald Cobblepot screaming like a banshee and attempting to rip Edward Nygma’s eyelids out-to his last memory of before he arrived in the odd room-were so drastic, Jim felt like just taking a long nap and never getting back up again.

But, no, he wasn't just allowed to do that.

There was potentially a bomb under them and he needed to do something about that.

Bruce and Selina were here and they were just kids.

Lee also needed saving. Along with this Martin fellow that Oswald was getting so worked up over.

Oh yeah, Jim should probably go help hold him back. Bruce couldn't do it on his own.

“Oswald, please calm yourself-” He attempted, only for his hands to be slapped away and a scream to thrown in his face;

“GET THE FUCK OFF! Let me rip him apart! He's the one that brought this bitch into our lives! He deserves to-”

In hindsight, maybe it hadn't been the most amazingly perfect idea for Jim to take off a shoe and then whack the Penguin over the head with it-but that's what happened, and what's done is done.

More importantly, the others seemed fine with it and it was less loud now, so Jim could actually think.

“How long do you think we have till he wakes up?” Ed said with a weak sounding voice, it nearly breaking at the word ‘he’ like Oswald was the devil.

Which, might be true, but honestly he wasn't that scary to Jim-just like how the idea of hell didn't scare him-more irritated him, the thought of someone else picking what's right and wrong, as opposed to the law, seeming severely unfair.

“I'd say about about ten minuets. That hit wasn't very hard.” Jim replied, watching the younger ones kneel around Oswald’s limp body and inspecting it.

“He's got a bump growing on the back of his head now.” Bruce commented, glancing over at Jim in concern.

“At least we all still have our eyelids.” Jerome offered, to which the rest of them sighed and tried not to glare when the signature laugh was let out.

“He’ll be fine,” Jim ignored Jerome and said directly to Bruce, Ed and Selina, “He'll wake up soon, but hopefully he’ll be woozier and too preoccupied to think about murdering us all.”

“Who the fuck is Martin though?” Ed grumbled, looking at Oswald with disdain, almost like he was afraid he was faking unconsciousness, and would jump up to stab him when he least expected it.

But Martin? Who was that?

“Maybe he has a long lost brother.” Jerome offered. But not in a very helpful manner, as most of the things he said, came out as either total horseshit or nonsense to irritate others.

“I'm pretty sure he's like Oswald’s kid,” Selina said, nudging Penguin with her foot, “We kidnapped him or something, Babs and Tabs and I.”

“You really shouldn't be saying that to a cop.” Jim muttered, examining the walls and marks created by the floor. How were they going to get out of here? Not that he wasn't interested in what Selina and Jerome were saying-but he was very invested in his life up to that point, and was hoping he could keep it.

He looked over to Ed, hoping the man would tell them what to do next.

Ed looked back at him, a finger in his mouth as he chewed his own fingernails, sweatily. Actually, he was really sweaty looking, like a gallon of water had been dumped over his polyester green suit.

“Who'd he have a child with?” He asked, tone something Jim could only associate with with the time Harvey had called him a nasty word and Ed had retaliated by smashing a lovely frozen flower.

Jim’s mouth was dry as he responded, “I don't think-”

“He adopted him, I think.” Selina answered, saving Jim from talking out of his ass, as he was very prepared to ramble on and on.

“From Falcone’s orphanage,” She continued, “Remember when it was the talk of the town and everyone was considering, buying their own little orphan? I'm assuming he picked one up too.”

A silence fell over them, only stopping when Ed began to chew his nails in what was either worry or boredom.

Luckily, Isabella was there to say, “You should all get to work while we wait for him to wake up,” She made an odd slurping sound as she continued, “And I really don't want you all to be blown up in the first round. That would be a total bummer.”

“But what do we-”

Isabella cut Bruce off with a groan, “Look for a way to escape obviously. God, I thought you were supposed to be smart, Br-oh, dammit, I've gotta run.” Her voice became clipped at the end and Jim’s eyes nearly popped in worry for the other contestants in other teams.

“What's wrong? Is someone hurt?” He asked, eyes pleading for a response.

“No, I spilled my coffee,” Isabella replied with clear annoyance, “Goddammit I'll-talk to y'all in a bit-er-you have twenty minutes till the room blows. Talk soon. Please don't die yet.”

The sound of a quiet beep echoed through the room as her microphone was turned off and they were left to sit in their own mess.

The camera continued on, a red dot flashing on its side as the only indication they were still being filmed. But, Jim didn't really care about the being watched aspect of the whole ordeal anymore.

His main concerns were getting out and saving everyone he could. But, mainly it was Lee. Making sure Lee was alright and that he could get her out of there as fast as possible.

As for himself? Yes, he wanted to live. But honestly you he couldn't give a fuck over what happened to him in comparison to Leslie Thompkins.

And that meant he needed to figure this puzzle out quickly.

“Ed,” He said, turning to his ex coworker/current least favorite bisexual, “What's your plan?”

The man looked to him, bringing his eyes from Oswald’s unconscious body, to Jim’s sweaty forehead.

“I was thinking we split into groups,” He told him, eyes looking back to Oswald, “I look at the mechanics of the pressure plates as well as any indication of a pattern or anything to give away a secret escape route. The ginger and little Wayne search the floor with no pressure plate for anything, and then you and street trash girl can feel the walls for trap doors or secret hatches. Oswald will...he’ll just...stay there until…” Ed shook his head, refusing to finish his sentence and instead, moved over to where Selina had originally been. He patted his pocket and scowled, muttering quietly, “Guess they aren't stupid enough to not search us.” Before getting into his hands and knees, searching the dusty cement floor for something to save them.

“Alright, let's get to work guys.” Jim commanded the moment it became too awkward to stare at Ed crawling around in his hands and knees.

The three nodded, looking more like little miners, going off to search for gold and pursue a future full of life.

“Who made that string bean in charge?” Jerome snarked as he moved towards the base of where the floor met the wall, looking around it and pushing on a tile, hoping it would give way and save them all.

“Did you know we had even left Gotham before he said something?” Cat asked, elbowing a wall as Jim pushed along the right for a hatch to give way.

Jerome let his voice an octave higher to mock the catgirl, “Did you even know the string bean is good with directions?” He finished his words with a howl of laughter-and Jim had to hold himself back from punching the child.

“Ed,” Jim called over to the man, ignoring Selina jumping onto Jerome’s back and punching him in the neck.

“How do you know this women? What does she want from us?” He asked once the younger make had given him his attention.

Ed’s lips twitched as he replied, “She's..someone Oswald killed. Back when I was his-” He stopped, knocking against the floor before saying, “When we worked together.”

“And she's after us all because you two were assholes to her?” Selina asked casually.

“No.” Ed’s head shot up and he glared at the girl, “She said she was doing this as a test of some sort for the city. Someone is obviously forcing her to do this.”

He went back to his work, poking and prodding the room, leaving Selina to grumble out a, “Touchy,” and turn back to her own work.

They continued to work, the only sound being Bruce and Selina whispering to each other, Oswald’s loud breathing, and Ed’s muttering under his breath.

Jim wasn't sure what would happen first, after searching the room for almost fifteen minutes straight and no luck with finding a way out or getting Ed to stop muttering his thoughts aloud.

Would they all die from being blown up or would they all rip each other's heads off in the next ten seconds?

His question became answered when Bruce began to yell, “Guys! I found something! I found something!” With both hands and face pressed into the floor.

“What is it?” They all demanded, shoving each other forward to see what he had found.

Bruce didn't wait for them to stop messing about, shouting and pushing and growling. He pulled a leg back and then used all his force to kick open a trapdoor, three feet wide and two feet tall, only just big enough for Jim’s body to push through.

“Why is it so small?” Selina asked, peering down it, hair falling around her face as she tried to get a good look through it, to see where they would all end up.

“Where does it lead?” Ed said after her, shoving his own face down to look.

“Who made this whole thing?” Jim asked, thinking more of the overall problem than the current obstacle.

“Why is it so filthy?” Jerome’s head bobbed down as well, adding the fifth head to the mix.

They all stared down the tunnel leading from the trap door, wondering where it   
led, why it was the way it was, and who made it.

Jim’s spit tasted metallicy as he swallowed a gob of it, trying to reason out the pros and cons of climbing right in.

Pro; They would be out of the room and one step closer to Lee

Con; It could be a trick, like in Saw where that guy climbed into the furnace and got burned alive.

Huh. Good thing they weren't in that movie.

“Guys,” Ed’s voice fell into Jim’s ears, “Not to sound metaphorical, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. It's coming through the crack of another hatch,” He pointed towards a minuscule sliver of light coming through it and added, “There's probably another room in there,” He looked at Jim, “Lee might be in there.”

Jim’s heart thumped loudly at the mention of the Doctor, looking towards the light hopefully.

Now, James Gordon wasn't a complete idiot.

He was sort of dumb at logical reasoning and hated math with a strong passion ever since fourth grade-but he wasn't an idiot.

And Nygma, literally telling him to crawl towards the light did not sit well with him, one bit.

But, Jim was incredibly desperate to get away from 80% of the people in the room and he was about 76% percent sure that this escape hatch was real and the actual way out.

“Let's get the fuck outta here then.” He told the group, squatting down to be level with their only chance of escape.

And so he started climbing in.

“Hurry up.” He heard Selina growl and then the thumps of her following after him. “God. Move, Gordon.” She said.

Jim didn't blame her for being grumpy though, seeing as she was stuck behind his slow butt.

Slowly and a bit like a grandpa, Jim moved enough for Bruce to follow after them both and then Ed who was dragging the limo body of Oswald.

“Why are you bringing him?” Jim heard Jerome ask (The only actual indication  
Jim got that Oswald was even in the vent yet).

“I'm the one that gets to kill him,” Ed replied-very out of breath, “Not this stupid test.”

“I forget, are you two married?” Jerome’s voice fluttered through the vent and Jim to catch himself from following on his chin from surprise laughter.

“Excuse me?!?” The tone of outrage was evident in Ed’s voice and judging from the loud thumps, Jim could sense that Ed was attempting to climb back out of the vent and punch Jerome in the face, as he was yet to get in last.

But the test decided then if was a good moment to act.

A timer going off filled the room and then the shutting of the trap door echoed behind them along with a locking sound.

“What the-”

“Is everyone alright?” Jim yelled, unable to crane his neck to see everyone’s faces.

“Jerome's still in there.” Bruce replied.

Did he sound happy ‘bout that?

“Do you think that he's-” Selina didn't get to finish her sentence, as soft screams began to fill the vent, winding from the room they had just left.

“Oh god.” Ed’s whisper all their minds as the screams were punctuated by a small explosion and even more shrieks of pain and terror.

“Dang.” Selina said, followed by Oswald moaning in his sleep.

“Maybe he's still alive?” Jim offered.

“Oh no. He's dead.”

Sometimes Jim wished for Ed to just shut the hell up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPRING BREAK IS ON WEDNESDAY YEET MY DUDES 
> 
> Also I didn't really edit so sorry bout errors


	4. Madame La Guillotine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's so short, but I wanted to update because I misssed last weekend, as I was helping my grandparents move, and I felt bad cause i haven't been able to write that much lately.
> 
> Also does anyone know how to tell your grandma she's a hoarder-but nicely?

This day was starting to really suck.

Cobwebs were tangled in his hair, making him twitch every second they tickled the tops of his ears and his hands were coated in a dusty sort of dirt that made him sneeze every few minutes.

He wasn't sure how the others were doing behind him-but the heavy breathing and thumps were good indication that they were still alive at least.

He could do without Ed falling over every three seconds though.

“How much,” Selina panted, “Farther? It's been like hours since we started crawling through here.”

Jim went to respond, opening his mouth, only to shut it in hopes the spiderweb dangling on his nose, didn't fall in. He wiped it away, shivering at the sight of an arachnid crawling away and then said, “It's been three minutes, Selina. I can see the opening up here in like another ten feet.”

They continued crawling, Jim more or less sliding on his stomach like a penguin (Not the man passed out behind him) as the shaft was too small for him to be on his hands and knees.

“Are we gonna talk about what happened back there?” Bruce asked, slicing through the silence with a hack at the end of his words.

“That ginger haired freak just got ripped apart by twenty tons of explosives and is probably splattered all over the door we just escaped through. What else is there to talk about?” Ed grunted, prompting Jim to say back,

“We don't know for sure that he's dead,” With only a small pant in between his words, “I don't believe anyone would blow up there own secret base-just to maybe kill someone they don't like. Plus there was a really high tech camera and sound equipment hooked up in there, right? Why would they just-”

“Great points Jim.” Ed cut him off, voice clearly losing its energy and becoming out of breath, “But no, Jerome is definitely dead. I could feel the vibrations of the explosives through the ground and everyone else probably could too.”

Jim considered replying to the younger, more paranoid male, but opted to not let any spiders leap into his mouth and stay quiet. Which, looking back on it, he most likely regretted, as he didn't allow the conversation to keep going, instead kicking open the small door in front of him, and cutting off Ed’s important thoughts and theories.

He scurried out like a rabid animal and quickly took in the room. Just as plain as last time, only a wooden table stood in the center of the room with a large metal door stood on the left wall.

“Oh thank fuck.” Selina gasped out as she clampered out of the small tunnel, right behind Jim. He helped her up, getting a slight scowl in response (She was probably too tired to do more) and then helped Bruce out.

“Thanks.” The young boy muttered, giving him a grateful nod and then moving to look around the room, like Jim had done when he entered. Jim glanced over to see Selina approaching the table cautiously and thanked the gods above that she had such great Smartshoot

He took a step to follow her over, only for Ed’s grunts and wheezes to take over his ears. Looking down, he noticed Oswald being shoved forward, out of the vent, like a sack of flower, and then Ed’s-drenched in sweat-face and oily hands.

“Do you...need help?” Jim asked after watching the man struggle for several seconds.

“No-I've got-shit-” Ed cringed alongside Jim, watching as Oswald’s body flopped down hard into the cement, Ed’s arms being knocked down with him, giving them both bruising noses.

“I'm fine.” Ed said indignantly when Jim grabbed his hand, hauling him to his feet and then letting him use his shoulder to balance.

“I don't care.” Jim replied, giving Ed one more moment of stability and then moving to drag Oswald deeper into the room. He had hoped to be able to chuckle at the sound Ed made when toppling over-but he only managed to huff and prop Oswald up against a wall.

“What's on that table?” He asked, turning to Selina and Bruce, wiping both his sweaty hands on his pants.

“A pistol.” Bruce said back, watching Selina pick up the weapon and look it over.

“A real expensive one.” She added, aiming it at the wall and then Ed with a snicker, “One shot with one of these bullets and it'd cost me like at least a hundred bucks-which, judging from your skinny as, I’d say wouldn't be worth it.”

Ed’s eyebrows furrowed at her, “Please don't aim a gun at me.”

The smile on Selina’s lips remained as she lowered it and set it back down on the table, nodding to Jim to let himself look it over.

Jim scooped it up, Bruce asking the question, “Do you think she’ll come back to tell us what to do?” With his eyes darting around the room to see where the cameras were placed this time.

“You're going to shoot yourselves.” Isabella’s voice boomed throughout the room, startling them all. Jim’s hand nearly slipped around the gun, using his less sweaty one to catch the pistol before it hit the ground.

“What did you just say?” Selina asked, asking what everyone else wanted to.

Isabella rushed to explain, not giving them one more moment to process her words, and said, “First, we need to pick two people to participate in this game.”

“Game?” Ed inquired, posture more stiff then Jim had seen even when they worked together.

“Yes,” Isabella answered, “This is a game. In fact, it's one of my favorite that we picked out for you all,” She made a clicking sound with her tongue, “The last group played this amazingly. No one died sadly,” Jim’s head ached as it snapped into attention, “But,” She went on, “Someone doesn't have five fingers anymore.”

“What the fuck does that-”

“Shush,” Isabella snapped at Selina’s outburst, “The game’s easy, alright? You pick up that pistol and aim it at your opponent. Just like how Selina and Edward demonstrated earlier.”

Jim spared a glance at the others to see them pale in the face-probably the same skin tone he was at the moment-and properly terrified.

“And then you stick your hand in this.” Isabella said at the same time a hatch opened up in the wall in front of them, revealing a small contraption that Jim could only describe as-

“Is that a tiny guillotine?” Ed gasped, voicing Jim’s thoughts.

“You recognize it then?” The woman said back, almost breathless with giddiness, “Tabitha remembered it. She was not happy when seeing it-in fact, she was shaking with rage when it cut off Mrs. Kean’s fingers.”

“You didn't.” Ed said, voice starting to quiver-and with a look at him, Jim could see him shaking like a leaf in fall.

“I did and I'm going to do it again,” Was the answer Ed got back, “And, since you got to control this Italian torture device-”

“The guillotine was invented in France.” Jim found himself spitting out, breaking out of his slight paralyzation from fear and correcting the woman.

“That not important-”

“Yeah, I only have a third grade education and I still know they're from France.” Selina added on, continuing with her habit of cutting people off.

“Can I continue-”

“Well actually, La Raccourcisseuse Patriotique was first used in France and Germany-but it’s more notably associated with the French Revolution, since the decapitations of their monarchs were made more publicly-that's where the saying about Marie-”

“Shut the fuck up, please Edward.” Isabella snarled through the microphone, a pounding sound coming through, like she was slamming her hands down on a table.

As he slammed his jaw shut, she went on to say, “Give me a moment to select a name and then one of you can shoot him. Or loose a few fingers-but I really doubt anyone will do that for him.”

And then the mic turned off, the light going from green to red on the side of the speaker.

“What are we gonna do?” Ed asked as soon as they had all silenced, looking more terrified than he had thirty minutes when they had all first heard the woman’s voice flutter into the room.

Jim didn't blame him.

“It depends on who she picks, doesn't it?”  
Selina looked him over with a snarl, both worrying Jim for everyone's safety-but also relieving him over the fact that it wasn't aimed at Bruce or him.

But what was even the point of trying to avoid danger right now? Weren't they gonna get hurt anyway?

It seemed pretty horrifying right now, but what villain made it so they only had one monstrous event-and then decided to make the following events easier?

If Jim had learned anything about the monsters and madmen that plagues the cities of Gotham, he knew they only got crazier and deadlier as time went on.

Was the point of this to suffer as much as possible to keep everyone else alive?

Even people he kind of hated?

“And we've all come to a decision!” Isabella shouted into the room, uprooting Jim from thinking anymore.

“Which is?” They all demanded.

“James Gordon’s going to commit murder today.”

“Fucking shit” Jim groaned mentally, only for it to also slip out of his mouth.

“Fucking shit.” Ed repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun Dun


	5. Gunshots and Rolling Fingers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short chapter, so let's call this a mini chap. Just to develop relationships, ya know?

Goals for the day;

-Don't die

-Don't let Selina swear in every sentence

-Figure out who specifically Isabella was working with and what they had planned

-Find Lee

-Cry when no one's looking

-Get Ed to shut up

  
Jim’s to do list seemed easy enough in the beginning, him writing it down in his brain the minute they entered the vent, and planning it all out on a mental agenda.

In fact, he'd accomplished silently weeping when he had a spider crawl up his sleeve in the vents, with absolutely no one noticing.

But, in the moment, he was discovering how hard his goal chart really was.

Selina loved to finish every sentence in which she addressed someone with the word, ‘Shit brain’ or ‘Anus face’.

And Jim appreciated her creativeness when it came to insults-he really did-but he was slowly coming to realize, he would never be able to stop the language all together.

Not only that, but it seemed highly hypocritical of him to scold her, when he practically shouted ‘SONNAFABICH’ every time he detained a perp-also they were in some sort of secret underground bunker where tests were being done on them. It wasn't the most important thing to be focusing on.

And maybe Jim was only thinking about the swearing, because he was extremely conflicted and pressured about the whole ‘Slice off your fingers or shoot someone in the face’ thing.

Okay, so that's what was happening.

“Jim, go and put your hand in the contraption and we can begin.”

And of course he obeyed Isabell’s demand. She could probably gas the room at any time she wanted to or got bored of them.

He shuffled over to where the hatch in the was and placed his hand inside, shaking slightly (Who wouldn't be?) and then grabbed a joystick on the other side, resting it there until his doom came.

He looked down at the gun in his hand, confused as to how it was still in his grasp. How hadn't he noticed it till then?

“Now I'll give your five minutes,” Isabella sang into the room, a clicking sound coming through next, which Jim could reason out to be the clicks on her keyboard as she hit a key.

“Ed, Jim, negotiate, work this out. Do what you both need to do.”

The speaker turned off with a beep, the color going red.

“Look, Jim,” Ed’s voice wavered as he raised his hands in front of him, in a pleading manner, “I know we’ve had our differences-I mean, yeah, I framed you for murder and Lee lost-”

“It's like you want him to shoot you.” Selina quipped, sat down on the table calmly.

Ed’s eyes seemed to grow to the size of golf balls as he realized what he was rambling, “Jim, I've always believed you to be better than most of the other cops we worked with, okay?” His voice cracked.

God, it was so long ago when Ed was just that little dork who gave riddles and got reprimanded for sleeping in the lab when he pulled allnighters.

“It's very reasonable why you hate me,” Ed continue when Jim wasn't able to reply, “But you wouldn't-you wouldn't kill an unarmed man, I mean-”

“I shot Galavan in cold blood.” Jim muttered, thumbing the tigger of the pistol.

“Well, you didn't-that's-”

“And then you framed me for it all. My unborn child died and I wasn't…there.”

“Technically, you went to jail for the murder of Officer Pinckney and Galavan, so I only half framed you. I mean, Oswald was tortured every single day he was in Arkham, and it was for a crime he never even commuted-”

“Dude, it’s like you want to die.” Selina interrupted, both her and Bruce staring at Ed and probably wondering how someone so smart, could also be so stupid.  
“You've gotta grovel, man.” Bruce added, somehow making Jim feel more like this was an event people were watching for their entertainment.

And with a look at the ceiling, seeing the tiny camera zooming slightly in on the, he knew that it actually was.

“I'm sorry, Jim.”

“Excuse me?” He asked hoarsely, stunned at Ed for giving in so quickly.

“I'm sorry, okay? I got paranoid, just like I always do and I-and I just, I did what I thought would help me most.” He waved his hands as he punctuated his next words, voice thick with emotion, “You hurt someone I loved and so I hit you back as hard as I could and then got myself screwed over in the process!”

“Someone you loved?” Jim frowned, shaking his head at the other.

Was he talking about Kristen Kringle?

Did he…

Did he believe Jim was the one who killed her?

How crazy was Ed exactly? What was the diagnosis from the doctors at Arkham?

“I can't change the past,” Ed went on, ignoring Jim’s question, “But I can attempt to improve the future and rectify my mistakes, Jim. Let me live and I'll help you get out of here. I'll get us to Lee.”

Jim’s chest felt tight at the mention of her name, skin almost to tight on his body and heart to big and bully for his body.

“How?” He hissed out.

Ed’s eyes flickered with what Jim could only call hope, as the past forensic expert explained, “I’m good at puzzles, Jim. You know that, I told you that in Arkham. You've seen me at the GCPD, you know that I thrive on this.”

“What does that have to-”

“This place is one gigantic puzzle, Jim!” Ed yelped as time began to run out, him growing scared and more urgent, “If you don't have me, you'll all be lost in this place for the rest of your lives! You might be able to find Lee on your own, but it'll take so much time-and getting out of here? You'll absolutely never be able to! I know these people! I know what they do and how they play their games! I know, Jim! You know you need me in order to find Lee!”

“Ten seconds.” Isabella whispered into the mic.

“Please, Jim.” Ed begged, eyes growing wet.

“Six.”

“Lee’s my friend too!”

“Five.”

“I beg you-”

“What the fuck is going on?”

Oswald’s sudden voice cut through the room, the group, including Jim, looking over to him propped up against the wall, rubbing his head. He looked at them in an awe that related more to horror, his eyes darting from Ed, to the gun in Jim’s hand, the hatch in the wall, and the teens sitting on the old table.

“Os-”

“One.”

The contraption went into action immediately, the blade coming down swiftly onto Jim’s fingers, the only sound afterwords being the blood spraying from Jim’s newly stubby hand.

Four fingers fell to the ground, rolling towards where Ed stood pale, his mouth open slightly and eyes wide. They left drips of blood on the dirty ground, adding color to the brown room, forcing Jim to feel a bit of irony for wishing earlier for a more colorful and welcoming room.

“Are you alright?” Bruce’s voice came towards his ears, almost like he was right next to-oh, Bruce was next to him, holding his arm.

Was he okay? He couldn't really feel the pain yet so-

Oh there it goes.

A burning sensation came over his hand, like he had stuck it in a deep fryer and then let a dog chew on it.

Not the most awesome feeling overall.

So he screamed, like any normal person.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would very much not like to go back to school tomorrow but here we are yay haha save me


	6. So She's dead now

It's gonna be alright.” A voice soothed, connected to the comforting hand that was squeezing his shoulder, rubbing a circle on an aching back. The voice went on, saying slightly sternly, “Ease your breathing, Jim.”

He immediately slowed down the intakes and outtakes he was making, looking over at Bruce-well, up at Bruce, as the boy was crouching above him. Jim glanced at himself to see he was sitting on his legs, one hand in his lap and the other being held by Oswald, Selina holding onto to it as well.

“I'm wrapping your hand,” Oswald says as soon as he notices that Jim’s staring.

“Oh.” Is all Jim says back.

His brains foggy and he must of passed out from the pain for a moment-because there was no way Oswald and Selina would zoom over in three seconds and spring into the action of nursing his wounds.

But, there they are, wrapping his hand, Selina propping it into position, Oswald using his fancy purple suit jacket to create a bandage and winding it around the wounds.

“Fuck, that's a lot of blood.” He hears Ed whimper somewhere to the left.

He doesn't have the capability to shout back, “Shut the fuck up,” but luckily for Jim, Selina pops right in,

“You aren't helping, trouty mouth.”

Jim may or may not hear the sounds of Ed sputtering, arguing with a sixteen year old. He may or may not know if Bruce is still holding his shoulder, as it's growing plainly sore. And he may or may not have lost all feeling in em his body that isn't pain and tiredness.

But for most of that, it could just be because Oswald’s staring him in the eye, wrapping tightly and telling him, “We need to find some anti-septic wipes or at least water in order to make sure these cuts are clean, Jim.”

Jim nods back.

He stops when he notices Ed stomping over, squatting down next to the two and blatantly ignoring Selin’s growls.  
“Okay, I'm the doctor here,” He begins, looking at Oswald and waiting for him to pass over Jim’s body. Jim can already feel himself starting to prepare the word ‘no’.

“Like I would trust you with this task,” Oswald snarls, almost reading Jim’s mind, “You're the reason his fingers look like little hot dogs.” Jim couldn't help but feel offended by the statement the other made, giving an affronted look them all and making an outraged gasp.

“You're fine,” Oswald rolls his eyes, “There's nothing Ed can do better anyways. We have no medical supplies, no water, ice-actual bandages. We have nothing,” He glares at Ed as he says, “Absolutely nothing to help him, so I very much doubt you can magically heal him. The only thing he needs now, is some sleep, seeing as he lost more blood than the amount I spill on business days.”

“Maybe don't say that in front of me.” Jim mumbled, untucking his legs from underneath himself and plopping down on the cold floor, pulling his wounded hand close to look it over.

He's pretty sure Oswald’s chuckling at his mutterings and that that someone is glaring at him-but he keeps his eyes on his hand, seeing red blotches spreading through the fabric of Oswald’s once stunning jacket.

...if Jim lives he might buy Oswald a replacement.

Speaking of that asshole…

“Did she tell us where the other groups are while I was out?” The man is asking everyone.

Jim looks up at them, voices slightly faint and kinda blurry-but he’ll chalk that up as simple blood loss.

“She only told us about how to escape the last room,” Bruce answered, “We all had to climb through ventilation system.” He looked at the ajar trap door they all had climbed out of with a grim expression, “Jerome didn't make it.”

Jim frowned at that. Was that terror of a child actually gone for good? Dr. Strange was always on the prowl for human corpses to act as test subjects.

He shakes his head and rejoins their conversation a moment late, only hearing Oswald reply, “I appreciate you all lugging me around during that,” he takes an inhale like he's dying just from saying it, “So...I’ll try to be...more helpful. My conflict isn't with you three for once, so if you all help me survive, i’ll help you survive.”

He finishes with an unerving smile and then a look at Nygma, like he's trying to one up him.

But honestly how long was Jim out for?  
Oswald wouldn't be able to be calm and kept together after the altercation they had been having earlier continued. Had the others talked him down?

Perhaps-with a look at Ed’s pale and scowling face-hewas promised some revenge and-

Oh, that boy.

“Who's Mason?” Jim asks after Selina and Bruce agree to Oswald’s deal (Ed screeching at them from behind, waving angry limbs).

“I don't know, you tell me.” Oswald replied with a very Cobblepot-esque laugh.

“Um,” Jim hums, not really able to think as well as usual since, you know, he only has six fingers left in total.

And he's not awesome with names in the first place, Harve’s always been the one who knew people and talked with them and got new/old friends to help-

“Harvey!” Jim shrieks, shooting up to his feet, ignoring a wave of nausea as soon as he stands, and instead, he looks at them all overjoyed.

Bruce looks like he's just seen James have a stroke.

They don't seem as happy as Jim is.

Oswald and Ed are giving him that look he usually associate with Lee when she sees him after a particularly long case-er-when she saw him after work. When.

“Yeah,” Oswald says after a moment, tone like he's talking to a six year old, “Harvey! Your partner. Do you not remember him?”

It dawns on Jim that they probably think he's lost his mind already-but who gives a shit ‘bout that?

“That's not what I'm talking about.”Jim still smiles, “Harvey’s gonna notice I'm gone! These people might be able to fool the others at the precinct or something-but Harvey would never believe that I'd just go on a sudden vacation or that I'm sick and not ask him to come over to play Mario kart.” He looks at them and for the first time since they all got there, he can see some sort of joy or happiness in their eyes.

“Alfred’s going to notice!” Bruce shrieks, a grin popping up on his face, “He’ll have the entire government bursting down these doors!”

Oswald’s lips form a genuine grin as he adds on, “I run the entire underground,” He laughs manically, “These people are so gonna eat shit.”

Selina snorts at Oswald and makes a comment about how she knows Ivy will come searching for her eventually, so even if she wasn't with all of them, she'd still have someone looking.

“I've never felt so fucking relieved!” Selina sang, closing her eyes and probably imagining their daring and badass escape.

Jim’s smiling too, hope coming back to him. He's gonna find Lee. They're gonna get out of there.

He almost twirls (But he would probably pass out if he did that) and looks at them all, about to lead a cheer of victory, when he takes in the sad expression printed on Ed’s face.

“What's wrong?” He feels himself asking, a small prick of anxiety striking his blood.

Ed shakes his head, “There's no way they'd allow people to search for us.”

“I really fucking doubt they know who Ivy is, dude.” A bubble of laughter springs out of Selina, her face becoming more of a confused smirk-rather than the victorious grin of glee she had sported a few moments ago.

Jim studies Ed as he stutters out nonsensical words, attempting to not believe what Ed was saying, because in all honesty and complete bluntness, that would really really suck.

“They couldn't have just picked us up and then left without telling any-”

“Once again Mr. Nygma,” Isabella’s voice shot in (Fuck, Jim forgot about the fucking mics). She drowned out Ed’s voice with her own, saying disappointedly, “You ruin all of the surprises! I can't believe this! You really should have just kept your fingers, James. He isn't worth it.”

The ripped up skin around his knuckles tingle at the mention of being severed and he can't help but send a scowl in Ed’s direction.

“But,” Isabella sighed, regaining their attention, “Since it’s gonna come out of Mr. Nygma’s abnormally loud mouth anyways, I'll just tell you all now. Oswald, please don't try to harm the other test subjects this time.”

An intake of air comes from them all, waiting for the woman to drop the atomic bomb on their heads.

“We've paid off the GCPD, so you'll be receiving no help there,” She starts, “And we spread around a rumor that Oswald and the queen of the narrows are dead , along with their right hand men-Sofia Falcone is dead by the way,” She added quickly, “She was getting annoying. And as for your companions who love you so much, and will stop at nothing to get to you? Well, I believe those are our other test subjects. Ivy Pepper’s screaming in the west wing currently. I think she lost her group.”

…

This time it was Selina who lost control. 


	7. It wasn't even her body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm pretending that Ivy never aged up three times and it was only two times.  
> Anyways, this is really short and kind of an in-between sort of chap, in which I can kind of vent about my own probs-but still share the story.
> 
> Yippidie skippidie, let's go.
> 
> Enjoy,

Loneliness was always something Ivy could find, even in the big city of Gotham. No matter what day of the week-where she was-or however grumpy she felt-there was always some ally or abandoned apartment building for her hide in.

And she liked that. She was able to do what she wanted, whenever and however she pleased. She could eat a bag of marshmallows for dinner and watch cartoons all day if she had broken into a place where a television still worked. She could dance on old furniture and plant foxgloves next to dumpsters as much as she wanted and her parents wouldn't smack her for it.

But she kind of missed those slaps after a few months.

Because those slaps meant someone was paying attention to her.

And she started to realize she hated the loneliness, the lack of physical contact, the nights where she was freezing in a cardboard box and an empty belly after a bad pickpocketing day.

She hated it more than the GCPD and how much they had taken from her. She hated it more than James Gordon and Harvey Bullock. She hated it more than her mother and father who had fucked up their family so badly.

She hated everything.

But then Cat had come. Her first friend.

Someone who could show her how to survive.

And they did. Together.

And Ivy decided she didn't want to be on her own again after that. She didn't care if Selina yelled at her or told her what to do at times, because having a person look at you like your a real human being (unlike those her saw her as street trash) it felt amazing.

Cat made her feel loved for the first time in what felt like ever. They worked together, commuting petty crimes, and making sure the other was alright, Selina mostly doing the latter as she had claimed the title of the one in charge. It was a system that Ivy had said she didn't like and didn't want.

She had somewhat lied.

Because, oh boy, she loved Selina looking after her, but she also felt like she should also be able to protect Cat.

So, when all of the age acceleration shit happened and she got to act like she could be above Cat for just a bit, like watching her from the sidelines and messing with her...it was fun.

It didn't last long though.

She told Selina she came for help to escape a raging lunatic’s goons, going on about how she was scared and needed money and she really really needed help, ending her little power trip.

But she hadn't really needed to seek help from Selina in that moment. She could have had protection from anyone with that perfume of hers, but no. No, she chose to go to the person she knew would break apart her high heels and tell her she was just being a dumb kid who needed help.

She went to Cat because she needed to feel what it meant be actually loved again.

Because all those people she ‘seduced’ didn't actually want to comfort her and love her. They just liked her for a body that wasn't even really hers.

So yeah, she needed Selina, and when Selina turned out to be dating Bruce she said she was cool with it.

But then Selina disappeared for what felt like years, and Ivy knew that it was because she was off with Billionaire Bruce Wayne, having the time of her life.

The abandoned house with the nursery attached to it was what ended up keeping her from destroying herself from the inside. She tended to plants that had been dried up and left behind like prices of trash, loving them because she knew too well what they must have felt.

Who cared if that sounded crazy? Ivy frankly didn't give a single fuck.

And the Pengy came and she saved him.

They didn't start off as best friends (Suprisingly), but after a while, she began to believe they were bonded like siblings almost. They both knew what it was like to be abandoned over and over again and they both labeled themselves as ‘freaks’.

Then she got jealous and dumb.

Again.

She shouldn't have shut the lights off in the club, just because she was furious with Pengy. She should have talked with him, like how she had never been able to do with Selina.

She ended up going from Pengy’s right hand woman, to a server in the Iceberg Lounge.

Others told her she was extremely lucky to still have all her toes after something like that. And she knew they were right, if she hadn't developed the close relationship she had with the man so much, she would be a corpse rotting, six feet under the ground.

And that made her realize the relationship between Pengy's and her was real. Leading to an even bigger heartbreak when she finally understood; that she had once again lost a relationship. Only this time, it was her fault.

She was alone.

Nobody to love her for being such a screw up.

And now, as she sat in the middle of the hallway, seeming to lead to nowhere, she could only feel cold and confused.

She didn't know who this ‘Isabella’ person was and she had lost the group she had been in when they had all began.

She should have focused more on her want to stay with people than her fear of what could come next.

That door had shut too fast.

Or maybe the others had just shut it before she could even take a step forward with them.

She brought her knees up to her chest and pressed her face down on the tops of them, quietly weeping for someone to love her again.

God knows, she can't do that herself.

And when the wall next to her opened up suddenly and four sweaty bloody people fell out, she felt more relieved than terrified at the sight of curly hair and two blue green eyes staring at her.

“Selina?” She whispered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivy just deserves all the love in the world.


	8. A Witch's Brew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeet yeet peeps get mad. Someone takes a yell and brucie gets peeved. Someone scream 
> 
> when does anyone sleep? I surely don't.
> 
> Mi English es muy Bueno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeet my dudes, I hate myself. Ha.

Jim felt his own rage boil up his throat, bubbling like a witch’s brew, ready to spill out and infect the already souring mood of him and his group mates.

Selina’s brew seemed to cook quicker, going off sooner and more explosive than Jim, throwing a bigger temper tantrum than what Oswald had given earlier.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” She screamed at the ceiling, in a stance Jim’s seen Oswald do when he's about to pounce on someone. Spit flew out of her mouth and her face turned a strawberry red.

“Selina,” Isabella crooned, voice sharp and almost mocking, “Please contain your-”

“Where is she, you hag?” Selina shrieked before darting towards Jim. He flinched when she stopped in front of him-but relaxed when she bend down-only to cringe once again when she picked up the still loaded pistol he had dropped earlier.

“Selina-” He said, cut off by a shot ringing out, while Selina scowled upwards and tears danced in her eyes.

It took a moment for him to realize none of them had been shot.

It took another moment to realize she had shot the camera hanging over their heads-but that was mostly due to a battery falling on his shoulder and not his acute senses.

“That was just rude, you little bitch!” Isabella roared into the room and Jim had to cover his ears with his hands to prevent going deaf.

When he took in what the woman had just called Selina however, he removed his hands and opened his mouth to prepare an argument against the woman-only for Bruce to step in, looking slightly less furious than his...well, whatever Selina was to him.

“Watch your fucking mouth!” He shrieked, jabbing a finger in the air, cursing like Jim had never seen him do before, “I swear on my fucking life, I'll escape this shithole only to shoot you in your face if you ever refer to her like that again!”

Jim stared at the normally incredibly polite and timid-well, who he had always classified as neat and shy-boy. Had those words really just slipped out of Bruce’s mouth? Had Alfred been been in the room with them all, Jim knew for a fact that the man would scold the boy relentlessly.

But it seemed the only adults in the room were; a crime lord, a man with what seemed to be an uncontrollable mouth, and a person who was grieving their missing fingers.

All of which led to;

“Yeah! What he said! I'd gladly supply the firearm!”

“This garbage child is the most respectable person in this fucking facility, asshole!”

And

“Don't you dare call her that!”

They all seemed to say the right things, as the mood suddenly became more somber than it had been no less than ten seconds ago.

Selina’s arms seemed to lower to her sides as she took in their words, her face going from pure fury to almost grateful rage. She nodded at them silently, to which they all responded in their one ways. Jim pretended not to notice when Bruce reached for her hand and they linked themselves while the girl attempted to ease her angry exterior. But he was content with the fact that the cameras were destroyed and could not ruin their privacy.

And then the moment was over in an instant, ending as quick as it had come- thanks to their captor’s compulsive need to speak.

“Fine! I'm sorry, I didn't realize how touchy you all were about the ‘b’ word.” Isabella slid in, voice not matching her words. She always sounded either furious or completely bored, minus the very few instances when she'd cackle with glee after watching them suffer-and in that moment she seemed to be stuck to completely bored.

“Can you please just shut up and tell us where Ivy is?” Selina growled, voice threatening to spill back into chaotic fury.

Isabella gave a deep sigh, reminding Jim of Harvey almost, before grumbling out, “Fine, but only because we need to get you all to a room with a camera.” The room began to shake with slight vibrations, Jim almost toppling over in surprise when a door previously hidden in the wall beside them, swung open.

They all eyed it wearily.

“Go through there and we can get to the next challenge.” Isabella ordered, clicking her tongue cheekily.

“But Ivy-”

“No,” The woman’s voice covered Selina’s, blocking her out as she sternly let out, “I’ll lead you to her with challenges, but I am not going to just open a door and have you reunite. This all needs to be worked for.”

Jim saw no reason to argue with the women anymore-as irritated as he was-and looked to the others to see if they wanted to step forward first.

It was a stand off to see who would venture ahead of them, into the-actually really really dark room. Like, Jim wasn't afraid of the dark anymore, he had left behind that fear when he was ten, but he felt absolutely terrified to enter that next room.

What if the next challenge required him to lose his toes? He glanced down at his stubbs and grimaced.

Please no.

“I think Ed should go first.” Isabella suggested, reading all their minds and breaking their conflicting silence.

They all looked to the shaky man, not even having the urge to argue, instead nodding forward-waiting for him to move.

“Fuck it.” Ed growled, stomping forward and showing a confidence Jim hadn't seen since the time he had given Ed to the court.

The man pushed the door all the way open, giving a groan at its weight, before strolling inside.

“What's in there, Ed?” Oswald called in as soon as the man was engulfed in darkness.

“Hold on. I need to find the lightsw-” The rest of his sentence was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream, so loud-Jim could feel the vibrations up his body.

“ED!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger, boiis. 
> 
> Suck it.


	9. Riddle room part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that last episode was damn good. 
> 
> Fuck I'm so gay for Nygma's raspy voice 
> 
> Also sorry for that cliff hanger last chap, ma lads

“ED!” Oswald shouted, darting forward ahead of them, only for them to also follow, worry eating away at their minds.

Worry that would ultimately would make Jim reevaluate his life choices, unsure of why had had so much panic in his brain over someone who put him in jail.

‘Most likely because whatever in there attacked him-would come for you next’ his brain reasoned, putting his logic into his front pocket and shoving his anxiety and feelings behind his back.

But he was still running into the room by the time Ed stopped screaming.

He peered in, completely unerved by the darkness, only slightly comforted that he could sense the others next to him.

“Ed?” He heard Oswald whisper.

‘Wow,’ Jim thought to himself, ‘this entire event has just completely destroyed Oswald’s voice. He sounds so hoarse and-did his voice just crack?’  
  
“Oh my god.” Ed’s voice shot into the dark, startling them all so much Jim heard Bruce give a slight yelp. It was shaky and jittery like he was delirious and out of breath.

And then the lights snapped on, temporarily blinding Jim until he wiped his good hand over his stinging eyeballs. His head had tilted to the floor, trying to avoid the light at first-but he soon looked up in order to check the room.

He had been prepared to find Ed sitting in a pool of his own blood, maybe half his organs spilling out of stomach. He had been prepared to find Ed strapped to an electric chair while to large people pulled out his nails slowly. He had been expecting to find Ed perhaps crying on the floor, over a close friend or family member dead on the ground.

Instead he found Ed hopping up and down, clapping his hands and giggling like a ten year old who just came down the stairs on Christmas Day to find stacks of presents under a tree. He was giddy and almost bouncing off the walls with excitement.

“What the fuck, dude?” Selina scowled, stomping further inside the room and over to where Ed stood, punching him in the arm.

“Hey! That was rude!” Ed whined, rubbing his bicep with a deep frown, stopping his jumps and claps.

“We thought you might have been murdered, dipshit!” The girl yelled, punching him again for good measure and receiving a glare from the older man. He rubbed his arm more tenderly and quicker to show his unhappiness-only for Oswald to storm over to him and-

SMACK

Oswald’s hand hit Ed’s face with a sound that echoed throughout the room, the short and crippled man using his entire body weight to shove into his slap.

The other two and Jim went quiet, staring at the two middle aged idiots.

For once, Isabella seemed to be letting them do their own thing-or maybe she was as stunned as Jim was at seeing such a violent slap.

And apparently Ed was just as surprised, seeing as he yelled out of shock and raised a hand to press against his burning cheek. He looked up to meet Oswald’s eyes, completely confused on what had just happened.

Oswald seemed to not give a fuck about Ed’s confusion and went on with his own words, “Never fucking do that again.”

Ed’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shape, his eyes staring at Oswald in the most innocent matter Jim had ever seen-even when Ed was still a little nerd at the GCPD. He looked away from Os, the other almost shaking in what assumed was…

Anger?

Jim shrugged, it looked and sounded like anger, but for some reason the feeling Jim got from the scene in front of him was fear and embarrassment.

“Why would you even do that?” Bruce asked to disrupt the moment, causing Jim to mentally scream in frustration, “Did you want us to think you were dead?”

Ed opened and closed his mouth before scooching a bit back from Oswald and then gesturing around the room, “I’m sorry, I just got really excited. I mean, just look at this.”

He pointed at a row of lockers pressed up against a wall besidehim. Each one had small envelopes taped to them, along with a small keypad right below and a wire that from it to inside the locker. Above the lockers, the words ‘Are you ready quiz kids?’ was written in bright green.

Jim could finally understand what had Ed so excited and happy.

“We get to solve riddles!” The man shouted, pointing over at the lockers with a large grin-despite the red hand print that was showing up on his cheek.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” They all ended up groaning, unable to help the mood turning from terrified to really really fucking annoyed.

“I swear you should have just shot him and we wouldn't have to deal with this shit.” Selina growled, crossing her arms and glaring from Ed to Jim.

Like Jim could control Ed’s weirdness?

He didn't know Ed was gonna was gonna be a little shit literally five minutes after he saved his damn life.

He looked down at his fingers.

Oh he missed them a lot.

“Look,” Bruce started, taking command of the situation (Ed had gone back to giggling into his hands), “We’re all here and we need to stick together and complete whatever they throw at us. As a team we’re strong, and-it seems this dude’s good at riddles so the faster we get started on this, the faster we escape this…” He looked over the room before sighing out, “Dark dungeon of doom.”  
  
“Fine.” Oswald spat, “What are the directions for this one, Isabella?”

Silence.

“Isabella?” Jim called, eyes darting up to the ceiling, scanning for the blinking that belonged to the camera and mics, they had seen in all of the other rooms.

He finally spied a small camera in one of the corners, trained on them. However, there was no mic.

“What the fuck.” Selina gasped when the doors they had entered through slammed shut with an oomph.

“Guys.” Ed said and the others looked to him for answers.

“I read the first envelope.” His fingers twitched as he raised it for the others to read.

“Figure out the riddles and input them into the keyspads-” he read aloud.

“Wrong answer and you go the punishment room.” Bruce finished.

They all stopped to stare at the piece of paper, eyes growing wide and mouths twitching in the want to say something.

Jim felt his own stomach pool with fear, his finger stubs burning with fear and his heart pulsing faster and faster as thoughts raced through his head. What was in the punishment room? Was it a metaphor for the afterlife and they would die?

He clenched his hands, relishing in the pain his messed up hand gave, allowing him to slightly focus.

Alright, he just needed to keep calm and get these riddles right.

"Let's not mess this up," Jim told the group, "That room sounds like death."

 

 

 

“More like kinky.” Oswald grinned. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


	10. Riddle Room part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotham is over! 
> 
>  
> 
> But this fic isn't!
> 
>  
> 
> But it only has like five or   
> six chapters left!

“What's the first riddle say?” Jim asked and looked to Ed to read it aloud to them all.

It had taken a few moments for them all to process the situation earlier, the challenge being more independent than usual. They also had to process Oswald’s language for the day.

Ed looked to Jim, his mouth making a weird clicking noise as he responded, “It's a long one. ‘As a stone inside a tree, I will build words to outlive thee. But if they push and pull me as I stand, the more I move, the less I am,” Ed looked Jim in the eye as he read the last phrase, “What am I, James Gordon?”

They all looked to Jim, slightly confused as to why he had been mentioned by name.

“Why does it have my name written on it?” Jim asked when the quiet become to unbearable and awkward for him to stand.

“Well, there are six lockers,” Bruce replied and Jim frowned, “One for each of us...and Jerome.”

“I guess we all have a riddle then. Six lockers, five of us left-someone gets to do two,” Oswald murmured and looked to the lockers with disdain and very limited controlled rage, “Who wants to do that ginger maniac’s?”

“I'm not the best at riddles so-” Selina’s voice cut in only to come to a halt at Edward darting in, his face covered in a twitching grin,

“I know what it is.” He said, looking to the group, “I know what the answer to your riddle is, Jim!” He smiled widely at the officer, although the man was almost one hundred percent sure the reasoning behind that was because he was excited over solving one his goddamn riddles.

“What is it?” Bruce asked, looking to the man eagerly.

“A pencil!” Ed said back, matching Bruce in eagerness, wanting to shout the answer out loudly and probably assert his dominance.

He was obviously just trying to psych them all out, maybe that was wrong and he just wanted Jim to put the wrong answer into the keypad. Maybe he was plotting against Jim and them all the entire time?

Ed seemed to notice his unease-much to Jim’s suprise-and chose to explain it to the man, “The object is a pencil, James. Graphite in pencils is a mineral that exists within rocks-I'm sure you already know that though,” He gave them all a grin, “The wood surrounding the pencil is the tree in the riddle. The push and pull refer to the motions necessary to write with a pencil. And as a pencil writes, it gradually becomes smaller and smaller.”

Jim considered the man’s answer cautiously. That all seemed correct. Everything lined up and now that Jim thought about it, that all made logical sense.

“Alright,” He breathed in after looking to Selina and Bruce, “Type it in, Oswald.”

Like being a pulled out of a daze, Cobblepot stared at Jim for five seconds before shooting towards the lockers and typing into the first one, ‘A pencil’.

They waited nearly twenty seconds in silence before the locker beeped and a green light flickered from in the key pad, signaling it was unlocked.

They all breathed a sigh of relief-minuses Ed, who looked simply smug and waited for Oswald to snatch up the next note on the next locker so he could fire through it and answer.

“Mr. Wayne,” He read, glancing at the teen who gave a large gulp, “Who was the first cat to discover America?”

“What the fuck?” Selina spat, grabbing the piece of paper and looking it over as the others frowned.

“That's the question.” Oswald responded, glaring at Selina slightly.

“I don't even understand what that means. Is there like a story about this? Some old folk take?” Bruce asked, taking the Leyte from Selina and also scanning it.

“Not that I know of,” Ed said back, face going red as he thought through the files and files of things in his brain.

Jim remained quiet as the other four argued over what the answer could be-Oswald shouting out random breeds of cat like that might help the situation.

Jim remembered someone asking him that question...who asked that? What was the answer?

“Lee…” Jim mumbled, the others throwing him concerned glances but continuing with the conversation-most likely chalking up his outburst as a mental breakdown.

But Jim didn't need them to talk with him right now.

He thought back to those weeks where Galavan was terrorizing the city. When he believed his biggest threat was a rich dude who led around a bunch of monks.

When he was depressed and frankly exhausted with the entire station around him-although it was a time when he had considered Ed one of his biggest confidants and the least threatening person in his life-he still found himself miserable.

But Lee had been with him, being the light in that shitty dark cavern of depression and anxiety. And on one of his harder days, right after work, Lee had sat next to him on the couch and tried to cheer him up.

“ _What was the name of the first cat to find America?” She had giggled, holding his hand._

_“What?” Jim had snorted, forgetting his low mood and smiling at her._

_“Christopher Colm-puss.” She laughed, smiling brightly, waiting for him to laugh back._

_And he did. She was stunning when she looked that happy._

Jim shook himself away from the memory and marched over to the lockers.

“What are you doing?” Bruce shrieked as Jim typed into the keypad.

The others all yelled at him, panic filling the room-

-until the light flashed a green and the locker swung open.

Jim turned to the group with a satisfied grin, “Christopher Colum-puss,” He smirked.

They all breathed in sighs of relief, Ed even huffing out a laugh.   
  
Bruce seemed to be slightly pissed still, saying sternly, “I swear to Celine Dion, I'll cut off your other fingers if you ever do that again.

That sent Ed into snorting again, this time Selina adding in with a series of giggles at the look of surprise on Jim’s face-along with Bruce’s baby face giving off a surprising glare.

“Alright, alright,” Oswald interrupted their laughs, snatching up the next letter-seeming to hide his own grin-and began to look the letter over. He paused before saying aloud,

“Edward Nygma,” Oswald read, sending the man a nervous glance, “For your locker, we decided it'd be too easy to ask a riddle. Instead we've decided to give you a true or false question.”

“That doesn't sound good.” Selina commented and the others nodded in agreement, making sounds to voice themselves, Ed even saying, “It better not be pop culture references.”

Oswald gave him a look before reading out, “So, true or false? It is considered abuse when a father…” Oswald trailed off, a look of complete confusion taking over his face.

“Go on.” Jim ordered.

Oswald looked from Jim to Ed and then back to the letter, his voice slightly trembling, “Is it abuse when a father...allows his friend- but not himself-to hurt his child?”

The room went quiet, Jim frowning at the letter in the man’s hands. What a weird question.

Oswald looked up from the letter in horror, eyes softening as he looked at Nygma, “Oh, Ed,” He whispered, “I never knew.”

Never knew knew what?

What was going on?

“True,” Ed squeaked out, and it was then when Jim noticed the uncomfortableness and and embarrassment clear as day on Ed’s face, “Just put ‘true’ in please.”

“Ed-” Oswald tried, placing a hand in his shoulder only to be smacked away with a shout.

“Just type it in!” The man yelled and Oswald shrunk back with a wounded stare.

Jim but his lip watching the two before he came up with his own conclusion.

Was Oswald a child of abuse?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jim is a dumb dumb stupid boi


	11. The Water Cycle (Filler chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, it's just that finals are in two weeks and I've gotta study so yeah, I may be slow for a little bit with updating.
> 
> ALSO THIS IS REALLY SHORT

The tree branches scraped against the window, giving off the effect of someone trying to get into the terrified child’s room. The seven year old whimpered and pulled the blankets closer, covering his tiny body in the hopes that if there really was a monster-it would see no one was there and it would leave swiftly.

A crash of thunder and the bullets of rain barreling down on the house caused the child to scream and shiver, hoping it would all go away and that someone would save him.

It was a cruel irony from earlier in the afternoon when he had pretended to be a brave prince who could save his mother from the wicked and evil witch (An irritated cat) who sat on the fireplace mantel glaring down at him .

He had raised their mighty foam sword and pointed towards the beast, ready to jab at it and save the day. In the end he had saved his mother and received mini corn dogs as a reward, along with the pride and honor of being able to help someone in fear.

But he lay in his bed on that rainy and windy night, scared he was about to die-when the door to their room swung open and a lamp turned on, alerting him that someone had come to their rescue.

“Edward?” A woman cried when the child peeked out at her with tear stained cheeks. She threw herself into the bed next to him, rubbing her fingers over his face and cooing, “What's wrong, my love?”

The child melted forward, being swept into a big hug, before he finally said, “I'm afraid of the noise, mama.”

The woman squeezed her child tighter, rubbing a circle on their back, “Baby,” She whispered, rubbing her hands through the child’s hair, “Rain is good for us. It keeps our plants growing and our planet healthy.”

The child back, tears and snot staining his face as he asked his mother, “How?”

“Well,” She chuckled, lying her baby back down into bed and rubbing a hand on his cheek, “Plants need water to grow, don't they? Where do you think we get that?”

The child thought for a moment and sniffled, nose and eyes red from crying. “Swimming pools?” He asked, looking to his mother for guidance.

She laughed softly in response, “No and yes, Edward, honey. The rain brings us the water we put in the swimming pool and then the plants.”

“And where does the rain get all of the water?”

The woman smiled, “It goes in a loop, honey. The rain comes from the pool sometimes.”

“What?”

“Mhmm,” His mother grinned, “And sometimes the ocean or even a spilled cup of water. It all goes into the clouds and then the clouds dump it all back down to us as a thank you.”

“Are the clouds angry at us today?” The tiny child whimpered after a particularly loud clap of thunder rolled over the house.

She, the mother, grabbed the other’s hand and held it gently, saying, “They won't get angry as long as we always have water, Eddie.”

“Then why is it thundering today?”

“Maybe the clouds just feel sad today.” The woman offered, pulling the blankets up around the child and then scooching inside the bed as well, “But, you know what? I'll sleep in here tonight and watch over you and then in the morning, we can talk more about the rain and read even more about how it all works.”

She laid down next to Ed and allowed the boy to snuggle into her side and then wrapped her arms around her son, holding him tight.

Because even then, she knew she wouldn't have enough time to hold her child like this forever.

Ten months went by after that night of cuddles and terror and then the women died of cancer.

It was something everyone could see coming, seeing as she refused treatment in order to keep her life savings for her child, wanting them to go off to college and become a scientist, just like their daddy.

And she knew how expensive those treatments were, her mama had passed because of lung cancer, just like her great Grandmother Edwina-and they died in debt, leaving it to their spouses.

She didn't want to leave any of that to her family.

But when little Ed ’s mommy was laid in the ground, he decided he’d rather have no money for his future and still have his mama to hold and snuggle on rainy nights.

“What are we going to do now?” He asked his daddy after the burial, clothes all black and face red, reaching out for his dad’s hand only to get it smacked away.

“Wait for our own death.” The man replied, stomping towards where their car was parked and leaving the child to hold back tears and attempt to keep up with him.

Years passed, and Ed realized he was the reason for his father’s unhappiness in both of their eyes.

So Ed tried everything to make his dad love him.

He tried to be the smartest person he could be, seeing his father had used to be a medical professional, and threw everything he had into his studies, including his own safety.

The first time he stole his friend Thomas’s ADD medication, he was sixteen and he cried for two hours and stared at a razor in the bathroom cabinet, trying to encourage himself into slicing open his wrists and waiting until everything went numb.

His dad came home before he could make a decision, and the man demanded he make him and his buddies dinner.

The next time he did it, he finished seven extra credit assignments and reorganized his collection of old Shakespearean and Oscar Wilde novels and texts, while listening to the Beatles at full blast.

The third time he conducted an experiment on severed tendons from the brain to the spinal cord and then the psychological traumas it had in the subject

He felt kinda sorry for the mice he used, but he ended up getting his report published in several newspapers and a bunch of cool awards that no one in school really cared about until they realized he was going to get into a better school than them if they didn't pick up the pace. So, yeah, he didn't really care about the mice.

His father didn't seem to give shit either way, only saying, “Do you win any prize money from this?” Every time he brought home a shiny science trophy.

And every time, he would hand over his prize money and allow his father to spend it on booze and cigarettes.

What else could he do?

His father loved him.

Right?

 

He found out the answer to that question was no.

Every weekend, his father would host some sort of gathering where his friends would gather round and play card games/watch a sporting event/or plainly talk about something negatively.

Every weekend Ed tried to find some sort of excuse for why he couldn't be around for some certain party.

Every weekend he would fail to come up with a worthy enough excuse.

And every weekend it became clearer and clearer that his father didn't care about him. That his father was simply done with life and didn't know how to do anything except drink with his friends and sleep.

Maybe that was the reason he just watched Fox News as his friends took their turns dragging Ed upstairs for ‘fun’. Maybe that was the reason he didn't even wince when Ed cried loudly in his room. Maybe that was the reason he didn't have the energy to yell at his friends when the snapped at Ed and whacked him as he set the table.

Maybe that was the reason he didn't care when Ed ran away to Gotham straight aftergraduating high school. Maybe that was the reason he never made any effort to contact his son.

Maybe all of that was why Edward Nashton became Edward Nygma; A quirky, bad at socializing, desperate for attention man who didn't believe he would ever be loved by anyone for the rest of his life.

 

Good thing he met Oswald Cobblepot and proved himself wrong then. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed's a sad lil boi


	12. Riddle Room Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've got one more day of finals-pretty sure I fucked up my science one-but I got a 100 on my global studies one :$

They continued opening all the lockers in timid voices. One after the other, they all opened with silly little puns and riddles as answers.

Luckily there were no true or false question left for them, allowing them all to move past the sticky question from earlier and focus on the crisis in front of them.

Er-none of them really got the time or option to answer, Nygma spewing out every single answer before anyone else could think of anything. He remained quiet for everything else though and remained emotionless when Gordon asked that idiotic question and everyone called him, ‘a fucking oblivious twit’ at the top of their lungs. The bird like man also seemed quieter, even flashing worried glances at Nygma every so often during the challenge.

Selina noticed every look. Selina caught every side eye. Selina immediately understood what was going on between the two, much much much faster and efficiently than James Gordon ever could.

“What now?” Said detective muttered as they looked at the empty lockers with disdain.

“There's letters written in paint in the very back,” Bruce said and the others found themselves squinting inside to see the letters written in their’s.

“I have the letter R.” Selina announced, feeling her fingers go cold as she traced the letter printed in the cool metal.

“I have T.” Penguin said, followed by the Riddler saying quietly back, “I have T as well.”

“I have a U!” Gordon shouted and Selina flinched at his suddenly upbeat way of being able to share his findings. Only a second ago the man was crying on the floor because of his missing fingers it seemed.

“And I have an H,” Bruce concluded before looking at Penguin who stood next to the last locker, the one that must must have belonged to Jerome, “Can you check what he had?” He asked, the man complying instantly.

“He has an S.” Cobblepot said before his eyes widened slightly and he reached for something inside the locker.

“And a-a phone!” His look of shock became replaced with a grin and before Selina knew it she was shouting at him just like the others to dial the police, his mob, or even a McDonald's to come and save them.

She, along with the other three were severely saddened when Cobblepot’s face fell and he looked up at them, raising so the phone so they could see what was on the screen.

It seemed Penguin had gone straight to the phone app to dial the police-only to find that the phone only allowed for him to call one person.

“Fucking Isabella.” Selena muttered, looking at the contact with hatred.

“Call her.” Bruce said, looking at Penguin impatiently, reaching out to grab the phone and do it himself.

“I'm doing it!” He snapped at the boy, dodging away from his hands and putting the phone on speaker as it rang.

“What if she doesn't answer?” Jim whispered nervously and Selina took in the way Nygma’s face drained of all color.

“Then we-”

“What up? You've got Isabella.” A sickly sweet voice chirped out of the receiver so suddenly, Cobblepot almost dropped the electronic device in surprise.

“Hello?” She called and Selina found herself staring silently. She didn't know what to say.

Thank god for Penguin’s quick mouth, “Hey, bitch.” He said into the phone, “We finished your dumbass riddles. What do we do next?”

“Ooh, no time to waste, eh?” Isabella cooed, “You in a rush to die sooner? The next room is gonna fuck you all up, lemme tell you that.” She dived into a round of giggle and Selina finally found her voice coming back, powered by pure annoyance and anger.

“Tell us the next step.” She growled.

“Oh Selina,” Isabella sighed, “I should've known better than to believe you'd grown any manners since we last chatted.”

“Isabella.” Nygma’s voice darted in like a snake and Selina nearly jumped, forgetting he was there with them, being so quiet.

“Yeah, because the man who murdered me really makes me motivated to help,” She snarled and Nygma flinched like she had slapped him.

“But, I’ll get on with it. We don't want you all to die of starvation, do we?” She snorted again and Selina but her lip to keep from cursing the woman out loud.

She'd do that in her mind.

Fucking bitchy hag of a gremlin shit face-

“You found the letters, yes? They spell out one of the rooms you're going to all go to. The last room. The one I'm most excited for,” Another giggle came out, “Anyways, you need to figure out what the word is-oh! And you have a one minute timer, starting...now.”

“Wait-what?” Jim was saying, Selina echoing with a splutter of words, unsure of what they were supposed to do. The future catwoman stared at the phone until the words Isabella said fully went through her head and she was able to understand what was said.

Luckily, they had Edward Nygma.

Selina watched him with wide eyes as he zoomed around the room with speed you’d never expect from a man like him. His eyes darted from letter to letter, mumbles tumbling out of his mouth and hands tapping away on his pant leg, muttering and muttering like the insane man Selina believed him to be.

“Forty five seconds.” Isabella sang, yet Selina still couldn't get herself to think through the problem effectively.

“Too many,” Nygma mumbled, voice raising to a yell, “Too many options!” He shouted, causing Selina to worry he was having a mental breakdown.

“Everyone!” He exclaimed and she flinched away, looking at the thirty something year old in slight fear.

“Line up in a row!” He ordered anyway, not noticing her warryness.

She complied with his demands though, knowing he was their best chance of not dying. And she would very much lie to live.

“Alright, R first in the alphabet” He put his hands on Selina’s shoulder and steered her to the front-the teen was too nervous to slap away his hands like normal.

“Six letters-ruthts? Rhttsu? No, let's try T-”

He pushed Cobblepot in front of Selina and began adjusting everyone’s positioning, Bruce nearly toppling over when he was pushed to the very back.

“Ten seconds till you all go boom.” Isabella reminded them through the phone.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Riddler muttered, wiping away a layer of sweat from his forehead.

“Ed, can we-” Jim tried, only for him to be cut off by Isabella’s counting.

“Seven, six, five…”

“I-I-I-” The genius man stuttered and it was then when Selina noticed the look of fear in his eyes, but not for himself.

She looked over Cobblepot and mentally sighed.

So, this is how she would die? In a cramped dirty cement basement with a dumb cop, her sorta kinda boyfriend who wanted be a vigilante bat, and two middle aged men who secretly love each other and are oblivious to the other’s feelings?

“Three, two-”

Selina closed her eyes, hearing the woman countdown with a sickly sweet voice. She thought back to her good memories.

Meeting Bruce for the first time.

Taking care of Ivy.

Practicing with that whip Tabitha gave her.

Finding Mittens the adorable long haired kitten in her old apartment.

Fish.

And dumb as it sounded, crawling through that disgusting vent in order to save Bridget.

And now she was going to-

“TRUTHS!” Nygma screamed a foot away from her ear, into the phone.

Selina stared at him, breath caught in her throat as she waited for Isabella to reply. She had never felt so scared and vulnerable.

“That is,” Isabella said and Selina’s heartbeat quickened rapidly.

“Correct. Well done Mr. Nygma.” The woman on the other line finished and Selina’s breath was released.

However, she wasn't allowed to relish in the relief, as two hatches in the wall in front of them opened up with a crunch.  
Selina looked from the two newly opened doorways and then back to the phone, waiting for Isabella to guide them.

“In front of you there are two different paths. One leads to the next challenge,” A light shone upon the door on the left, “And the other leads to where another team is.” A light shone upon the door on the right.

“Is Martin in that group?” Cobblepot demanded, hands shaking around the phone in what Selina assumed to be anxiousness.

“Maybe,” Isabella replied and Selina looked over to see Penguin stewing with rage, “But,” The woman went on, “I feel like I should tell you now,” She cleared her voice and said, “Only one person is allowed to join another team right now. And one does have to join another team.”

And like that, with only a few sentences, the room filled with tension once again.

They all stared each other down, waiting for someone to speak first.

Jim seemed to think going first was the best option for himself. “I need to find Lee, guys.”

“My son is somewhere out there!” Penguin shrieked next, looking more emotional than ever. More than when they first arrived. Selina didn't blame him. There was a chance he could see someone he loved. That was why Selina needed to argue as well.

“Ivy is out there all alone, gentlemen,” She said and they looked at her with open mouths, “You're all fools to think I'll allow you to get past me.”

“Um, excuse me, Alfred is down that hall and I have every intention of getting through that door and finding him before all of you.” Bruce cut in and for the first time Selina found him to be a threat.

“Guys, I promise you I'll find everyone and keep them safe, just let me go to Lee and-”

“She doesn't even like you anymore!” Cobblepot yelled over Jim’s voice.

“I made her a promise, Oswald-”

“Martin is just a child-”

“Ivy’s a kid too!” Selina found herself saying.

“In a woman’s body! She's strong and agile!” Cobblepot argued back, stepping closer to her and cornering her backwards towards the lockers.

“Oh, fuck off!” Selina growled, pushing him back, “You met her! She's an actual idiot! She can't survive on her own!

“Yeah, well, Alfred’s an older-”

Selina whirled around on Bruce, claws out, teeth bared, “Don't you dare pretend his old age affects his physicality!” She shouted and jabbed a finger into his chest, “He's probably better off than we are! Ivy doesn't even know the capital of France, there's no way she's going to survive out there! She's all on her own and-”

“She isn't with a group!” Penguin yelled and Selina looked at him with pinched eyebrows.

“Isabella said we could join another team, and Ivy isn't with another group. She's off on her own, while the others are all with each other.”

Selina looked at him and jabbed her fingernails into her palms as she realized he was right. God, her throat felt so right-but she was not going to tear up in front of them.

“I'm sorry,” The man must have noticed her emotions anyways, his voice now softer, “But there's a chance I can find Martin and I'm going to take it. He's a child and you're all obsessed with looking for grown adults who can take care of themselves. He's not.”

Selina swallowed a mouthful of spit and looked away from Cobblepot, over to where the doorways were-

“What are you doing?” She gasped, seeing Nygma standing in the hallway of the door leading to the other team.

“I was just checking it out,” The man replied, "I think it's a trap though. I don't think anyone's down here," He said, taking a step forward-only for the door to slam shut, cutting him away from the group.

And them from him.

And the group that most likely had Martin and Lee and Alfred.

It was another moment for Selina to fully process what had just happened, when Penguin began screaming bloody murder.

“ED!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof


	13. He'll be back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE:
> 
> I really have no inspiration for this story and i am really sorry.  
> I'm gonna finish this up in the next chapter, and it'll be the last. I had a lot of ideas for this story but like, I don't watch Gotham anymore and I'm not interested in it, I'm starting to get into more animes like bnha and Haikyuu and I want to focus on them. 
> 
> Again, I am sorry to cut this short and this chap as well as the next one will probably feel incomplete and sped up-but that's just so I can feel I really finished it and I don't have to worry about it, as well as I hope give you all closure on the story.

~~~~He had been terrified of Oswald at first when the doors from the riddle room were shut and the bird-like man erupted in screams of anger and despair. He had been shocked when the man fell to his knees in tears, cursing not Isabella and the court-but himself. And Bruce had been completely and utterly full of pity for the man when he saw how broken he really was at being separated from Nygma.

He felt himself being able to relate to Oswald next-only for horror to take over at that thought. He shoved away the possibility that he could ever feel the same or react in the same emotional stability that they Oswald had.

Except in the end, it seemed to backfire, as he attempted to think of all the ways they weren't alike-only for him to think of all the shit that they were similar in.

Both had seen unimaginable trauma, had witnessed their parent’s deaths (Something Bruce learned about Oswald from Jim, as the cop really seemed to enjoy gossiping about Oswald regularly), and both had a hard time trusting people nowadays.

Not only that, but both were chasing after people who were way too stubborn and intelligent for their own good.

  
And as Oswald silently cried on the floor, he found himself sitting down next to him in his knees, saying the first thing that popped into his head;

“He’ll be back. We both know it.”

He thought of all the times Selina ran off.

All of the times she had just disappeared without a trace, worrying him half to death at first. He used to drive around the city, check the newspapers and police radars (Don’t tell Jim) in the chance she had been caught for some petty theft, in the chance she might’ve have been hurt-or worse-end up dead.

But he knew in that moment, and mostly for awhile, that just like him and Oswald being scared of relationships-Selina and Ed could take care of themselves easily.

Actually, if Selina was as financially stable as Bruce was, she probably wouldn't need anything from the boy she was seeing.

So when Oswald turned his head to the side slightly and stared at Bruce with glassy eyes-the two simply stared at one another before nodding with tight smiles. Stressed-but still somewhat hopeful for a chance at trust.

\----

Hours of challenges and torturous events went on for the group. They spent hours attempting to find a way out of the seemingly endless building of twists and turns, finding Ivy along the way-for which Bruce was eternally grateful for, Selina showing a smile for the first time in what felt like years. And hours of hatred for a woman named Isabella-who Bruce had never even set eyes on-becaming more molded and hardened as time wore on.

And soon those hours turned into days.

Or what they believed to be days-by the watches Oswald and Bruce had on.

They survived on the odd packs of gruel and bottled water Isabella sent them through hatches in the walls they passed through. It certainly wasn't ‘living’ however, as each challenge they passed through, Bruce felt his hope for escaping diminish slightly and his soul die slowly.

Each minute that ticked away sent a wave of horror down Bruce’s spine, leaving him to not only depend on those around him, but to also repeat to himself every night when he lay on the cement floor that-no matter what-he would get out of their with the rest of his team.

“How much longer do you think we’ll be here?” He asked one night after a rather heinous challenge of having to dance around saws and blades to Selina.

They lay on the floor next to each other with their hands outstretched brushing one another’s hands.

“Not long.” The girl replied, using her other hand to pat on the wrappings around Ivy’s head, her ear missing from previous challenge, smiling when the redhead murmured in her sleep.

“Is that an honest statement or are you just trying to make him feel better?” Oswald grumbled from under one of the torture tables, picking atwhat was either a blood stain or a vomit stain.

“An honest one.” Selina replied, tone hot towards the male, “I know for a fact someone is going to look for at least one of us. It doesn't make any sense that all of us could just fall off the edge of the earth. Bruce is like rich and extremely well known, I'm pretty sure at least one of us has parents who care about them, and the court of Owls was destroyed last year, right?”

Oswald pursed his lips, nodding silently as Bruce smiled to himself soundly.

“I guess we’ll just have to see,” Jim sounded from a corner, curled into a ball for warmth.

Bruce hummed back and rubbed a circle with his thumb into Selina’s palm.

“As long as we believe,” He whispered into the silent bunker after ten mineutes of no one speaking, “We have a chance.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chap is the last.

**Author's Note:**

> Eh


End file.
